


Fridays in September

by Just_Char



Series: Finding Family [2]
Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: Friendship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:47:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28640238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Char/pseuds/Just_Char
Summary: Percival King cannot sleep. But its certainly not loneliness keeping her awake, because that would be ridiculous. Or, Percy and Ramsey have a sleepover.--Part of my 'Finding Family' series. This story will not satisfy you if you are looking for big confessions and admissions and grand gestures, but if you enjoy quiet gifts and small developments and holding hands, then it will please you endlessly.
Series: Finding Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714978
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Fridays in September

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this fanfiction a year ago in order to contextualize where Percy and Ramsey were in their friendship during Homeward, and I always struggled with it. It went through multiple rewrites, exists in three separate documents, changed perspectives and formats endlessly, and tormented me constantly. The thing is, however, it was the story that was wrong. People do not change over night, especially not people like Percival King. Change takes time and is hard and ultimately beautiful, but never instantaneous. So I changed it. Nothing really happens in this story, but that doesn't mean it doesn't mean anything. I hope you enjoy it.

It was a perfectly normal Friday in September, approximately half past nine in the late evening. Percy lay quietly in bed, arms crossed gently across her stomach, staring at the white ceiling with the stubborn intent to fall asleep without closing her eyes. The lull of heavy rain on her bedroom window was usually a welcomed aid in this regard, but this time it did nothing but continuously bring her back to comprehensive thought and completely ruin the sleeping process. She patted her elbows with her hands, mostly because it felt nice but also to occupy herself with anything that wasn’t staying perfectly still. It was not very often she had restless nights. What with the stressful nature of her work, she usually didn’t have the energy to stay up much longer than she should. And yet, here she was. Staying up. Unintentionally, of course, but the point still stood. She was awake on a perfectly normal Friday in September.

She sat up in bed. She would simply have to find the inconsistency between this night and all the other ones in which she had been able to sleep, and then she would correct said inconsistency and fall asleep as usual, having only lost an hour or so of rest. “Excellent,” she said into the inky darkness of her room. She leaned over to her nightstand and switched on the lamp, before returning to her previous position and patiently going through her nightly checklist once more. She’d had dinner at an appropriate time, so late eating was not keeping her awake. She’d remembered to brush her teeth, and wash her face. She looked down at her attire. Yes, she was, in fact, wearing her winter pajamas. Her sheets were clean and the fabric was tactilely pleasing. Of course, she hadn’t put Molly to bed because Molly was at her friend’s for the night, but that didn’t seem of much importance. She paused for a beat. Unless it _was_ of much importance. Did that count as part of the routine? 

Apparently so. Problem identified. Said problem was not exactly solvable, however. It’s not like she could ruin Molly’s sleepover and bring her home just so she could sleep. That would be terribly selfish and incredibly inconsiderate. She could invite someone over to stay, technically, but realistically, who did she have to invite? No one. Therefore, she would simply have to try and sleep regardless of her lack of company. Percy nodded. “Well, that settles that.” She switched off her lamp and lay back down.

But that did not settle that. 

With a sigh, Percy once more sat up and switched on her lamp, feeling partly guilty at the waste of electricity for an aimless conquest. She had apparently not realised how comforting another person’s presence in the apartment was. Although she didn’t feel any different with Molly gone, nor had she when she’d dropped Molly off, it was obvious there was a part of her that had gotten accustomed to not sleeping alone. 

Percy sighed. Perhaps a cup of tea would help? She knew it was irresponsible to get out of bed, but she couldn’t see what would be productive about staying there and wasting time, and there was nothing she found less enjoyable than wasting time. Tea it was, then. Percy planted both feet on the hardwood floor and stood. It was a cold night, but she didn’t mind. The cold was nice, refreshing. It was good to appreciate such things, especially when she was feeling irritated over the disruption to her schedule. With a moment’s thought, she took her phone from the dresser and tucked it into her pajama bottoms’ pocket. She wanted it nearby in case Molly called. She headed over to her door and opened it quietly, in spite of the lack of people to wake up. She almost laughed at her own ridiculousness, but she didn’t. It didn’t seem very appropriate. 

She stepped into the hall, frowning at the creaking floorboards. They were not making that noise yesterday. Perhaps the floor was symbolic of a greater unrest in the apartment, a lack of the warmth and chaos that was oddly desirable. Or, more likely, the floorboards were contracting due to the autumn cold and beginning to loosen. She would have to fix that. _Later._ For now, she had to focus on her current problem: ~~Loneliness.~~ An inability to sleep. Yes. Insomnia. ~~Due to loneliness~~ ~~.~~ Percy frowned. She was getting a little too into her own head. 

She didn’t bother wasting any more electricity by turning on the lights in the hallway; she knew her own home well enough to find her way around, and the subsequent light from the lamp in her bedroom lit the floor well enough that she could see there was nothing to trip over or hurt herself on. She marched through the doorway that led to the kitchen and sitting room, taking a direct left to reach her little kitchen. She reached for the lightswitch and switched it on, lighting up the space in a cosy yellow. 

Her kitchen was well-kept, as usual, which was admittedly a little relaxing. If it had been messy, well, then she certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep before cleaning it, but she didn’t use it enough for it to get messy, anyway. Percy turned on the plug for the kettle and took it from its heater, stepping over to the sink to fill it. Without thinking, she filled enough for two cups. She frowned. Now she was truly being ridiculous. Well, it wouldn’t be wasted, she’d use it tomorrow. She stuck the kettle back onto the heater and switched it on. Now, to wait. 

Percy was not an impatient person, of course; she didn’t mind waiting. She took a deep breath. Perhaps she would do some breathing exercises. In for seven, hold… out for eight. Yes, that was positively stimulating. She glanced over to the clock. Ten. She’d been awake for an extra hour. At this rate, she’d be going back to bed at eleven. Not wonderful, but not long enough to leave her tired tomorrow. She didn’t have to get Molly ready for school, either, which gave her a little extra time. Perhaps she would lie in.

Now, she actually laughed. It was funny to play make believe, even for a moment. She shook her head with a small smile. Wake up after six for no reason. She woke up at six before Molly lived with her. To suggest she’d stop because she wasn’t here for one day… ludicrous. Not that it wasn’t stopping her from doing other things she usually did. Like sleep. The kettle clicked. Oh, excellent. Percy opened one of her cupboards and pulled out her cup. She’d have to wash it after; she’d want it clean and ready for tomorrow. She examined her tea boxes. Chamomile was probably the best choice for now. It was a natural relaxant, after all. 

She fished one of the bags from the box and gently placed it inside of the cup. Then came the water. Yes, and now a spoon would be required to stir it. She’d done it a thousand times. She pulled out a spoon from the drawer beside her. Things were easier on autopilot, when she didn’t have to think about them. She’d add a little cold water, too, to cool it quicker. She didn’t have time to waste. She was looking forward to her tea now, even if the circumstances surrounding its creation were less than ideal. She picked it up with a pleasant smile. It was something she’d always found a little joy in, regardless of the trouble of the day. _Or, in this case, the night._

Percy brought her cup to her kitchen table and sat in her usual seat, the one closest to the kitchen. It was a small table, square and big enough for four. She didn’t think four people had ever eaten there at once, however. She pulled one of the plain coasters from the middle of the table and placed her cup on it. It was a silly thing, the cup. It had an inaccurate drawing of a tyrannosaurus rex on it, alongside its name, incorrectly spelled ‘Tea-Rex’. She hadn’t understood the joke at first.

Molly had gotten it for her as a gift, though it was not for anything in particular. Percy had believed perhaps Molly had gotten her birthday mixed up; understandable, young children were susceptible to forgetting such little details. She sipped her tea. And mothers. Well, she was being immature now. It was an unimportant detail, anyway. She rubbed the handle of the mug. It was a shame she could only use it for tea; she’d grown quite fond of it. 

The apartment was quiet. It was always quiet, of course. Both Percy and Molly preferred it that way. Usually, Percy preferred it that way. She took another sip of her tea and took another deep breath. Hm, breathing was getting a little difficult. Where had she left her inhaler? She knew she had one in the drawer in the kitchen, but that was a preventer, not a reliever. This was not feeling like an asthma attack, anyway. She could still breathe, she was just… Percy frowned. Anxious. For what? She was losing a little sleep? Who was she? Meryl?

Well, now she was being mean. The guilt made her feel worse. She was starting to like Meryl, even. Another sip of chamomile. It had no effect. She was starting to think that perhaps she should give up on sleeping altogether. It wasn’t as though she was alien to ‘all-nighters’, as they were put; she’d been partaking in those for as long as she’d had work to do. Percy blinked. Work. Of course. She would use this time to work on a case. What in heaven’s name was she doing, sitting around drinking tea and getting worked up over nothing? Percy quickly stood, abandoning her tea to find her work bag. She’d definitely brought paperwork home today. There it was, where it always was, placed carefully against the wall in the living room. She kneeled down next to it and flicked through the sheets and folders with her thumb; ah, yes. She pulled the case out from the satchel and examined it. She had some reports to file. Excellent.

She picked a pen from her bag and stood to bring them back to her seat, moving the chamomile tea and its coaster slightly out of the way. And that’s what she did for twenty minutes. Filled out paperwork. Every time she felt her heart ache for the presence of another, she’d tell herself that the case was more important; the victims took priority. And that’s what worked. For twenty minutes. 

Because in twenty minutes, the report was finished, and the ache simply came back. It was hard to be lonely. Percy hadn’t ever truly felt like this before. She sighed and leaned back into her seat, her eyes flickering to the clock. Half ten. The night was pulling her by slowly and painfully, it seemed. It wasn’t that the concept of ‘loneliness’ was foreign to her– everyone was a teenager once– it was just that she hadn’t felt it in a very long time, and certainly never so intensely she couldn’t ignore it. She once liked living alone. Well, she supposed she never thought about it. She glanced at her phone and pressed the home button, just in case she’d missed a text from Molly. 

No, she hadn’t. But she had missed a text from Ramsey, apparently, only five minutes ago. Delighted at the distraction, Percy put her feelings on the backburner once more and slid the message open.

_Hey ik u r sleepin but are u colectin me 4 work 2morrow or will i take bus???? No prob if bus sleep well_

Percy raised her eyebrow at Ramsey’s inability to text comprehensively. She could not understand people’s failure to type as they spoke; it was incredibly impractical. However, she could not be mad at the only person in the world that was offering a respite from her own thoughts. She took it in one word at a time.

 _Hey._ Well, that was a common, if informal, greeting. 

_Ik._ Hrm, Ramsey had certainly told her what it’d meant once. Oh, yes, ‘I know’, which seemed ironic in a way. _‘U’_ and _‘R’_ were shorthand for the words they sounded like, ‘you’ and ‘are’. _Sleeping…_ Ah. Yes, he was checking to make sure she was still bringing him to the Police Station. He was helping with a case, as part of his parole. He was doing well in reform; she was quite proud of how far he’d come. She typed her reply with her index finger somewhat intentionally slow. 

_Yes, I am still collecting you, Ramsey. Worry not._

She pressed send and locked her phone, placing it beside her. She casually brought her tea to her lips. It was lukewarm now. Her phone pinged. Ramsey again. 

_K but why u awake everything gud_

She’d almost forgotten it might be that he was not expecting a message back from her so soon. It wasn’t often she was awake to answer his midnight texts. It was foolish of her not to realise. Percy didn’t particularly want to worry him, so she kept her message short and concise.

_Yes. I am staying awake._

It wasn’t a lie. She was staying awake. He didn’t have to know all the details… 

_Y somethin happen????_

… Regardless of whether or not he wanted them. Percy frowned. Still, she could be honest without worrying him. 

_No. I am simply not tired._

Her phone buzzed, the 8-bit ringtone suddenly piercing the intense quiet of the room. He was… calling her? Percy paused for a moment before pressing the answer button, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She held the phone up to her ear tentatively. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Perc’.”

“Hello, Ramsey.” 

Percy wasn’t sure how she felt about phone calls. She didn’t mind them, though it bothered her you couldn’t do anything when you were on one. She wasn’t good at multitasking. 

“Why you stayin’ up for?” Percy could hear him fidgeting with something, but couldn’t tell what. She stood. 

“I had some work I wanted to get done.” She was a terrible, awful liar. 

“Huh. That urgent?”

“No,” she blurted out, “Not at all.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Sadly, this was perhaps one of the most smooth informal phone calls she’d ever had. 

“Is it done now?”

“Ah, yes. I have finished.”

“Cool, so you’re gonna go to bed now?”

If she said yes, that’d be it. It’d be over. “No.” So why didn’t she want it to be?

“Oh. What’re you gonna be doin’ then?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Wild night for Percy, then. I see how it is.”

Wild was the wrong word. Percy wondered if Ramsey felt the same when he was alone in his apartment. It’d be easy for him; he was very sensitive, she found. She wondered if he felt like that right now. The poetic part of the thought was lost on her. Still, she was having a conversation. What was it Meryl said about repeating questions? “Why are _you_ awake?” 

“Same as you. Workin’ on stuff.”

“You don’t get work from the police station.”

“It’s not… It’s art stuff.”

“Oh! I see. That sounds interesting.”

“It does?”

“Yes. You should tell me about it. You never speak about your creative ventures.”

“I ain’t exactly proud of some of them.”

“Nonsense. I’m certain your pieces are all as skillfully crafted as each other.”

“It’s less about the skill and more about the subject matter. I know I’m a talent, Perc’, ain’t no one gotta tell me that.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I didn’t say stop.”

“Are you still feeling unsafe?” Percy blurted out.

The silence suggested this was not the correct dialogue option. “Uh… Yeah, but it’s not– You don’t gotta worry about it.”

“Is that why you called? Does talking… help?” She was doing her best, not that it wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten herself into this. 

“I mean, yeah. Just kinda lonely in the apartment, but– I guess it was kinda rude of me to call out of nowhere, huh? Sorry about that, Sparky.” But Percy was admittedly not really listening. 

It was upsetting to think about him sitting all alone in his apartment, afraid. As he’d said, ‘ripe for picking to any bozo he’d peeved off in his lifetime’. Of course, his language had been a lot more colourful. 

It felt like she was failing him. “You should come over.” Well. She had certainly not authorised that, but it didn’t seem like the _wrong_ thing to say. 

“I should?” He sounded surprised, but not nearly as surprised as she felt. Part of her knew it was less than ideal; she really shouldn’t be inviting an ex-convict to her house at night, even if it was just to help him– the connotations were endless. Her fingers drummed on the wood of her chair. 

Still, he was a citizen, and he felt unsafe. What was her duty if not to keep citizens safe? “Yes, I don’t see why not.” 

“A-Alright, I’ll be over in ten.” There was a long silence. If he was going to stay the night, she’d have to figure out where to put him. She inspected her surroundings. Perhaps the couch? No, that was impolite. He was the guest, he should stay in her bed. It wasn’t like she would be sleeping anyway. Ramsey coughed. “Uh, Percy? You still there?” Oh, dear. Had she not replied to him? 

“Yes. Ten minutes is good.” She nodded to herself, as if he could see her. “Goodbye.” She hung up, letting her hand fall to her side, still clutching the phone. That was that, then. He was coming over. Hrm. Well, she’d simply have to prepare for his arrival. The professional side of her was coming back, it seemed. Suddenly, this all appeared to be a terrible, awful, incredibly misguided idea.

She had ten minutes. Ten minutes. Her eyes flickered more naturally to the clock than the time on her phone. He’d easily be here before eleven, then. _You can still cancel. But you have to do it now._

Right. Her fingers hovered over the phone, but she couldn’t bring herself to write anything. Regardless of the consequences, Percy could not conceive of a way to let him down. And it wasn’t entirely about him, either, was it? She wanted him to come over, didn’t she? But he wanted to come over, too, so it was okay that he was. Right? She wasn’t sure. It was a lot and it didn’t make sense. She’d never just invited someone over before. This night was full of firsts, it seemed. It made her uncomfortable. 

With a sigh, Percy pushed her chair back under the table. Did he think he had to come over, perhaps? She was his superior, after all. If she was forcing him, intentionally or not, then she would be using her power to make him do something he didn’t want to just to temporarily appease selfish desires; that was not very just of an officer of the law. It was not very just at all. She reached for her cup and nervously took another sip of her tea. She’d have to calm down if she was going to think about this rationally.

Somehow, even more terrifying than the growing guilt in her chest, was the growing excitement in her stomach. She’d never particularly wanted anyone over like that before. She’d missed relatives and wanted to see them, especially when she’d first moved, she wasn’t heartless. It just felt more intense this time. She couldn’t place why. Perhaps it was the absence of Molly. 

Percy quickly stood from the table. If he were coming over, she would at least have to prepare for his arrival. She was hardly going to be a horrible host, especially if she was going to be making such a big deal of his visit. It wasn’t like he hadn’t come over before. 

How was this time any different? 

~~Because she asked for it.~~

It was hard to say. Percy took her cup and peered inside. It was halfway empty. She paused for a moment before finishing it off. She’d have preferred to take her time drinking it, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices. 

Percy gave the ‘guest area’ a cursory look-over, trying to scan the kitchen and living room for anything less than presentable. As per usual, it was perfectly tidied. Well, she had left her bag in an unsightly state when she had hurried to find work in it. She frowned. She would have to fix that. Percy paused. She would fix that now.

Percy made her way over to the bag, grabbing the reports from the table as she passed it. She kneeled down and correctly reorganised her work bag before closing it and putting it back to where it was supposed to be against the wall. She stood up straight again and took a deep breath. Well, tidying certainly helped. Still, there was no true way to nullify the overflowing well in her stomach. She was usually much better at keeping things quiet. Hopefully, this would be something she would get over before Ramsey arrived. 

The doorbell rang. Or not. She glanced at the clock. How was it eleven already? She attempted not to rush herself. When she opened the front door, as was expected, Ramsey was standing in the hallway. He was dripping wet, and holding a paper shopping bag filled with… something. She couldn’t quite see.

“You… didn’t bring an umbrella with you.” Her eyebrows creased with concern. 

Ramsey grinned at her. “Well, hello to you, too.” He shrugged. “Didn’t have one. Uh,” He fidgeted a little. “Can I come in?”

Percy blinked. She hadn’t realised she’d been completely blocking the doorway. Her absent-mindedness was making her lack any manners; she hadn’t even greeted him. “Ah, yes, of course. Please do.” She moved herself out of Ramsey’s way, still looking at the bag. She didn’t remember asking him to bring anything, and he hadn’t said he would, either. Percy almost smiled. _A mystery._

Once he got further in, Ramsey shook himself off like a wet rat. “Yikes, stormy out there, huh? Crazy weather for September.” She watched him check out the kitchen, putting his bag on her table. He was still soaking; it appeared as though his shake had no substantial effect. Besides dirtying her floor, of course. Her eyes stayed fixed on the bag. What had he brought? Why? The paper bag suggested he’d bought it both on the way over and from a convenience store; otherwise, he’d have either a plastic bag or a reusable one. 

Her mind was getting the best of her manners again, however. She looked at Ramsey in all his wet glory. He seemed… off. She smiled regardless. It was nice to see him. “Would you like a towel? And perhaps some dry clothes?” She eyed his noodle body. “I am certain mine will fit you.” She wasn’t as certain she had any pajamas to gift him, but she was sure she could find something. Perhaps some old sweatpants, and she certainly had the odd t-shirt lying around.

Not literally, of course. Someone could trip were they simply on the floor. 

Ramsey turned to her and sniffed. “Uh, wouldn’t hurt. I guess I didn’t really expect to get soaked like this. Sorry.” She examined his face. She liked his goatee, though she’d never tell him. It seemed unprofessional, and she didn’t want to objectify him. She couldn’t put a finger on why she liked it, either. 

Percy shook her head. “It’s quite alright. I will go retrieve something for you to wear, and there are towels in the bathroom.” She gave him a warm smile. She was already feeling better that he was here. Ramsey smiled back. The smile didn’t seem familiar, however. Percy was not sure why. Perhaps it was just the cold? She had been told weather could change people’s ‘energy’, not that she’d use the word herself. Personally, she thought the cold was quite nice. She gestured towards the couch. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He took off his jacket and, when she did not stop him, gingerly placed it on one of the wooden chairs. “Thanks, Percy.” But he walked immediately into the kitchen instead of the couch. He did not want to get it wet, she assumed. _How considerate._

Percy wandered back to her room, leaving Ramsey to his own devices. He’d been over so many times by now, it was beginning to become normal. Ironically, Percy suddenly realised, she’d only been over to his apartment thrice before. How odd. She might question him later; she didn’t wish to put him on the spot as soon as he’d come in.

She pulled open the middle drawer, tentatively examining what she had. It was easy to navigate due to the lack of clothes stored in it. Her dresser and closet were not easy to fill, she found, and she was considering giving her closet to Molly and transferring what little she had inside to her dresser. She pulled out a pair of soft sweatpants. She had never really worn them; she’d gotten them for Christmas ‘for all the working out she did’ as it was put, though she was not sure where her uncle got the impression she exercised more than the average officer. Clearly, she did not do it enough she ever needed a second pair, but they were appreciated regardless. 

At least Ramsey would find some use for them now. She draped them over her arm and closed the second drawer, moving up to the first to pull it open. This would be easier. Percy had more shirts than she knew what to do with; her aunt always brought her to buy clothes when she came over, and Percy never had the heart to say no. She thumbed the fabric of one of her more loosely-fitted sweatshirts, neatly folded and arranged carefully by color. This one would do nicely. 

Suddenly realising she was keeping Ramsey waiting, Percy shut the drawer and marched back to the front room. She was oddly spacey tonight. She would have to fix that. 

When she got back, Ramsey was up to cooking something in a pot on her stove, surrounded by ingredients that she had not left out. She didn’t recognise the milk brand, so he must’ve brought them. The now empty paper bag sat discarded on the counter, its mystery solved. A satisfying conclusion if she could think of any. “My apologies for the wait.” She furrowed her brow at him and readjusted the clothes on her arm. “What is that?” 

Ramsey stared into the pot as though he didn’t know either, tilting it towards himself. “Oh, it’s, uh, hot chocolate.” He cast a quick look her way. “I know you don’t usually drink sweet stuff, but it’s so cold and all, I thought it’d be a nice treat.” He finished his explanation with a bright smile. 

Percy returned it. It was a truly generous gesture. He was right, her diet didn’t tend towards sugary items, but she did not mind hot chocolate. It reminded her of her father. “Oh! How kind of you. Still, you are my guest. Please, allow me–” She reached for the whisk in his hand, but he pulled it back.

He looked concerned. “Percy, no offence, if you go anywhere near this, you _will_ destroy it.” Ah. Well, in honesty, there was kindness. She couldn’t say he was wrong. 

“That is… fair.” He had to get changed, though– he was still soaking– and she was almost certain even she couldn’t mess up mixing it. “At least allow me to stir it while you get dressed.” He squinted at her and then back at the pot. By the half-used state of everything he’d bought, it seemed as though he didn’t need to add anything more to it, anyway. 

“Alright. Thanks, Sparky.” He flashed her a grin that seemed tired, which was unusual because he often stayed up much longer than she did. “Let me just finish up spicing it.” Spicing it? Were you supposed to ‘spice’ drinks? What an interesting, if incredibly foreign, concept.

Percy examined the wrappers and food stuffs left out on the table and instinctively began tidying them up. It suddenly dawned on her that he had spent money on them. “... You bought all of these just to make hot chocolate?” He must’ve liked the drink very much. She’d make a mental note of that.

Ramsey nodded casually. “Yeah. My old roommate taught me the recipe, way back in college. Never forgot it. I dunno if you had a plan or anything for what we were gonna get up to, but anything can be improved with a warm drink, y’know?” He paused. “Unless we’re workin’ out or something, but in that case, I’m playin’ spectator.”

Percy almost laughed. “We will not be exercising, no.” It was far too late for that; she’d only get herself more flighty. “Yes. You’re very thoughtful. Thank you.” Ramsey took her salt from the arrangement of spices that adorned a small shelf on her counter. She had thought, for a very long time, it was meant to be decorational. It was Molly who had informed her otherwise. Still, seeing someone actually use them was rather jarring. 

Ramsey let the whisk fall into the pot and turned to her. “Alright, that should be good. Just, uh, keeping mixing it, and if it starts bubblin’, uh, take it off the heat.” Made sense. 

Percy examined the pot as Ramsey took the clothes from her hands with a raised brow. “And put it where?”

Ramsey blinked. “Uh… there!” He haphazardly pointed to the off burner beside the pot as he maneuvered around her. Percy took the pot handle in her left hand and the whisk in her right, eying the ‘cool-down’ spot. It didn’t seem like enough space to keep it from the heat, but she would simply have to trust him. Immediately, she began whisking the mixture with intense gusto. “Woah, woah, woah, too fast, Sparky, geez!” Ramsey panicked. She stopped, eyes widened in surprise. 

“You said to whisk?” She certainly hadn’t misheard him. 

Ramsey’s eyebrows creased upwards. He waved his hand vaguely. “Yeah, but, like, slower than that maybe?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?” Had he no idea what he was doing, after all?

Ramsey shook his head. “No, just… Absolutely definitely slower than that.” 

Percy nodded. “If you insist. Perhaps like… this?” She made a conscious effort to do a much steadier, slower stir. 

Ramsey gave her weird, terrified finger-guns. “Yeah! Exactly like that. Do not go any faster. I’ll be as quick as possible.” He immediately raced off into the hallway, the sound of the bathroom door shutting following quickly after. Ah, she should’ve told him where to put his wet clothes. She looked down at the constantly moving whisk. She could tell him after she was done whisking. 

It smelled nice. Percy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had hot chocolate. No, that was incorrect, she could remember. In Marchpoint, with Molly. It was always a little cold in Marchpoint; regardless of the season. Summer was as good a time as any to get hot chocolate, especially on its off days. It was good, but she enjoyed the company much more. 

“Alright, I’m back.” Ramsey suddenly reappeared around the corner. Percy gave him a pleased look over. The clothes fit him fine. He stretched his arms so she could get a good look at him. “What we thinkin’, am I gonna be the next Top Model?”

Percy blinked at him, still stirring. Top Model? She wasn’t much invested in the fashion industry. “I don’t understand.”

Ramsey shrugged. “Yeah, me neither. Hey, I left my clothes on the radiator in your bathroom, hope you don’t mind.” She did not, of course. He took the pot and whisk from her with a smile, looking around the room casually. “No Molly tonight, huh?”

Percy stepped away to give them both space. “No. You remember I told you earlier she was sleeping at a friend’s house.”

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah. I never did sleepovers when I was younger. Never got invited,” he said, bluntly. Percy blinked. She hadn’t ever thought Ramsey the kind of child who wasn’t popular with his peers. He was so… charismatic.

Perhaps sleepovers weren’t as common as she thought. She shook her head. “Nor did I.”

Ramsey shook his head too, albeit more jokingly. He tutted, still whisking. He wasn’t looking at her. “Kids these days, huh? Doin’ stuff with their pals. Terrible.” He was joking, Percy assumed. Ramsey liked kids; it was one of the things they had in common. 

Percy tried to play along, nodding solemnly and doing her very hardest to imitate some of her co-workers. “Truly horrific. Their social development should never surpass that of an average adolescent when I was their age, or else I will be displeased for non-specific reasons.” Ramsey laughed; her effort must’ve been worth it. 

“Yeah! Guess we gotta start a revolution against them.”

“I suppose we must.”

“Heh.” Ramsey grinned at the hot chocolate, seemingly pleased, but his grin suddenly fell as he bit his lip. “Percy.” Percy couldn’t say she liked how his tone changed.

“Yes?” 

He looked up at her, but faltered. The smile she didn’t like came back. “Think this is done, now. Where are your cups?” He was a very convincing actor. 

Percy tried to ignore it. If he wished to speak about anything, he knew she would listen. “I’ll get them,” she offered and did not wait for him to agree. She moved past him to the cupboard and frowned when she realised that with these two taken out, there was only one left. Had she ever used up all of the cups in the apartment before? Not that it mattered, she told herself. “Where will I put them?”

Ramsey scanned the counter for a free spot. Perhaps she should’ve cleaned up after all? “Uh, there!” He nodded at a bare spot beside the chocolate that wasn’t used and she dutifully placed both cups down, stepping back to give him space.

She glanced at her drawer of kitchen utensils. “Would you like a ladle…?” but by the time she looked back at him, he was already leaned over the cups with the pot, his tongue stuck out in concentration as he filled the one closest to him. “... oh.”

“Huh? What was that Percy?” he asked, unfocused. The next cup was filled. She frowned in anticipation of a spill on the counter. Perhaps she was being a stickler. Molly accused her of such, sometimes, as did her co-workers. It really wouldn’t hurt to trust him a little more, she supposed, and who would it hurt if some had gotten on the counter? She smiled sheepishly. 

“Nothing.” 

He straightened up and smiled. “There we go! Two hot chocolates, a la my roommate I can’t remember the name of.” He hadn’t spilled any of it. “You wanna sit on the couch with these? Maybe we can put on a movie, if you got any?”

“Certainly. I’m not sure what I have, but I’ll check regardless.”

* * *

Percival King did not own many movies. She rummaged in the drawer beneath her sitting room TV, a modest flatscreen that hadn’t seen much use before Molly moved in. Molly had brought a lot of DVDs, but most of them were cartoon shows that Percy wasn’t entirely sure about. She did have all seasons of Mythbusters, and the Spookers box set, but she had a feeling neither were the kind of media Ramsey was thinking of. “You ain’t lost down there, are ya, Sparky?” he called from the couch. He’d put the cups on the coffee table (with coasters, as she insisted.)

Before she could reply, she spotted a potential hit. “Aha!” She pulled out a DVD from the very back, an over-the-top looking buddy-cop movie that Meryl had given her as a ‘novelty gift’ last year. She brushed any accumulated dust off the cover and stood up. She turned to face Ramsey and held it up so he could see the cover. “Is this alright?” 

Ramsey squinted, and then his face lit up. “Shit, that’s a terrible movie!”

Oh. That was bad. But he said it with a pleased tone? Percy hesitated. “You seem… excited about this?”

Ramsey nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, put it on.” He laughed. “Percy, it’s so bad, you’re gonna hate it so much.” Percy smiled, but still felt confused. Still, if he was happy about it, who was she to judge? He perhaps had an insight she simply did not. She kneeled to put the disc into her DVD player before joining him on the sofa. Ramsey sort of sprawled on the left side of the couch, but did not take up as much space as she expected. Percy sat at what she decided was an appropriate distance from him, suddenly aware that she was wearing her pajamas in front of him. She hoped he didn’t think less of her. 

As she grabbed the remote from the coffee table, Ramsey nestled into a comfier position, grabbing a pillow from behind him to put on his lap. “You got a comfy couch, Percy, I gotta say. You got good taste.” 

She changed the input and examined her couch as if she’d never thought about it before. “Is it? I can’t take the credit. It came with the apartment.” She switched the movie on. 

Ramsey nodded, and then looked around curiously. “When’d you move in here?” he asked. The remote was placed on the arm nearest to her. She blinked. 

“Oh, well.” It’d been awhile since she’d thought about it. She put her hand to her chin. “I’d say shortly after I got my position in the penitentiary... seven years ago?” She nodded. “Yes. Seven years ago.”

Ramsey reached for his hot chocolate. “Huh. Pretty young.” He didn’t drink any, just nursed it in his hands. Percy glanced over at the TV. The movie had already started, and she’d missed it. Was she supposed to continue talking, or was that the end of the conversation until the movie was finished? Some sort of warehouse police raid was occurring. One of the ‘bad guys’ got shot in the back of the head. Percy frowned. 

She tried to settle. Ramsey looked deep in thought. “So I guess you moved to the city pretty much straight away. How’d you afford it? Er, if you don’t mind me askin’.” The conversation wasn’t over then.

Another man got shot, this time in the back.“I suppose I got a great deal of aid from my parents. I could have worked in Marchpoint first, but…” Percy tried to not sound embarrassed, experiencing a rare moment of awareness of privilege. She couldn’t imagine Ramsey was financially secure at twenty-two, not in any legal way and certainly not by freeloading off of his parents.

Ramsey laughed. “Wanted out and wanted out ASAP, huh?” He shook his head lightly, but she thankfully did not get the impression he wasn’t judging her.

She half-smiled. “There are many things I prefer about Marchpoint. I believe it would be a much better place to raise children, and it’s very pretty. I enjoy its weather, especially. However, it is the most likely place for an officer’s abilities to be wasted, and I could not bear the thought of staying there and being useless.” 

Ramsey nodded, but did not look up at her. “Yeah. Trust me, I getcha.” He lingered, as if debating something in his head. “Y’know, I left my hometown too. Hated the place,” he said, finally. 

Should she comfort him? He sounded downhearted.“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly, because apologising was the only thing she could think to do. 

He waved a hand. “Nah, don’t be. I got over it.” He casually looked back at the screen. “Oh, hey, you see this sergeant guy?”

Percy followed his line of sight. “The taller man?”

“Yeah! Alright, so, we missed it, but at the start he shot this guy, right before the warehouse raid got ugly.” He looked at her to see she understood and she nodded. “So, he’s telling these guys–”

“Who are on the cover.”

“– Yeah, they’re our main guys– he’s telling ‘em this other cop did that, this rookie lady that was also there.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate and put it back down on the coffee table. 

Percy watched the sergeant wave the two men off and furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t understand. Do they know someone was shot too soon?”

“No. But they keep asking why the warehouse raid went wrong, and he’s trying to put sic ‘em on someone else.” The two men head out to their car, apparently planning on confronting the rookie cop.

Percy looked at Ramsey. “Why would he do that? Is that not more risky than admitting he shot too soon?”

Ramsey made an L-shape with both fingers as he eagerly explained. “‘Cause he’s being sneaky. See, he doesn’t want anyone to know he did it, ‘cause he’s got a _history_ of being a little trigger happy.”

Percy immediately thought of Meryl. “I see. So he’s covering it up by blaming another officer, someone of less authority than him, lest he be recognized as a danger to society and lose his position.”

Ramsey snapped his fingers at her. “Exactly.”

Percy smiled, turning her attention back to the TV. “This movie seems interesting, Ramsey. Why did you think I would hate it?”

Ramsey smiled back, a little too innocently. “Because you will, Percival. Because you will.” 

* * *

Percival King hated inaccuracies. “This is ridiculous, they’re not even going to file a report?” 

Ramsey grinned into his hot chocolate, refilled. “Nope.”

Percy gaped. “Was this movie researched at all?”

“Probably not, no. Wait, this is the funniest part.” Percy turned to the screen. 

She frowned as Ramsey began to cackle maniacally. “That man’s hand just got cut off,” she said, flatly, in case he had somehow mistaken it for something more light-hearted. Instead, he laughed harder, as if this were some kind of joke she was telling and not a horrific observation.

“Ramsey!” she scolded. 

He held his hands up defensively. “What?” He rolled his eyes. “The effects are total garbage, Perc’, ya gotta laugh at that.” She squinted at the obviously fake plastic hand on the ground.

“... Their budget did not suit their goal, no.”

Ramsey only chuckled in response. Then, he frowned. “Hey, it’s kinda low. Mind if I higher it up?”

“Oh, of course not.” Percy turned to hand him the remote, but he was already reaching over her for it. His arm brushed off her shoulder. She raised her eyebrow at him. “Would it not have been easier for me to do it?” she asked as he leaned back again, this time with the remote in hand. He was a little closer now, ruining her perfectly thought out appropriate distance, his arm brushing off her own. 

“Eh, maybe.” Sometimes, Percy did not understand Ramsey at all. He smiled at her. “Y’know, I used to work on movie sets when I was a kid.”

She looked at him curiously. He’d never mentioned this before. “Illegally?”

He paled suddenly. “Uh, yeah, but it wasn’t my choice so you can’t arrest me for it.”

Percy frowned. “The person who made you do it is the arrestee in this case, Ramsey.”

“Oh, right. Huh, weird being on the other side of the law.” He blinked, as if the concept was completely foreign to him.

Percy couldn’t help but grin slightly. “You work for the Sweet Jazz Police,” she said, with an air of amusement.

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, as a _criminal_ consultant. I’m basically still a prisoner.”

Percy felt a little disappointed, if she were honest, that he held the position in such low regard. “Your work is of great importance to the police, Ramsey.” Especially when she regarded him so highly.

His face fell. He bit his lip, but did not reply. He looked at the clock, instead, clambering for an excuse to not talk about it. Percy politely pretended she didn’t notice. “Geez, it’s getting real late. If I’m walking home, I’d better leave soon.”

“Oh!” Percy had been operating under the impression he would be staying the night. Foolish of her, to say the least, considering they had not once suggested anything of the sort. It was perhaps for the best he wasn’t, even, because it was entirely unprofessional to have him over in the first place. Which was why what happened next was so confusing, because what Percy knew she should do was offer to drive Ramsey home, but instead she said: “Why don’t you stay the night?” The words came out of her mouth faster than she could stop herself from saying them. Ramsey looked as surprised as she did.

“Uh, would you be okay with that?” he asked.

No, and neither would her superiors. “Of course,” she said. What was she doing? Had she no control over herself at all? But it felt natural. To offer, and to be okay with him being there in a way. And nothing ever really felt natural for Percy, not anything like this. ~~And if he left, she’d feel it again, the loneliness.~~ And maybe he didn’t want to go home either? No, she was rationalizing it, now, trying to pretend it was the right thing to do instead of the selfish thing. Once again, she could not bring herself to tell him that she did not want him there. ~~Because it wasn’t true.~~ Because she didn’t want to hurt him.

Ramsey, at the very least, seemed pleased. “Cool.” He nodded. “Hey, first sleepover for both of us then, huh?” He nudged her jokingly, and she laughed weakly. Unsurprisingly, he caught on. “You sure you’re alright with me stayin’? I don’t mind if you ain’t.” 

She faltered. “Er, well. It’s just–”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Perc’. I get it.” He moved the pillow back to the corner of the couch, getting ready to stand.

Percy ignored the desperate feeling in her chest. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He was… frustrated? The move reminded her of her mother. “Look, I know you probably feel bad for me, stayin’ at home alone after I told you that stuff about me being scared. It’s why you invited me over, right?” He gestured towards her, one hand shoved into the pocket of the sweatpants. “But you don’t gotta worry about it. I’m able to handle myself, alright? So don’t keep pushing your own boundaries and ignoring how you feel and stuff to make me feel better.” He sighed again, and the softness returned to his face as he looked away. “I hate it when you do that.”

Percy could feel her face fall. “Ramsey…” Did he think she pitied him? Her eyes fell to the floor. “I’m not going out of my way to accommodate you. The only reason I’m hesitant about asking you to stay is…” She steeled herself with her own rationale, standing up to be closer to his level and forcing herself to look up again. “It’s unprofessional of me to make you do such a thing for such selfish reasons.” Her hands clasped behind her back out of habit. 

Ramsey looked a little lost. “Selfish reasons? Whaddya mean? Like, cause I wanna stay?”

Percy tried not to falter again. “Er, no. Because _I_ would like you to stay.” 

His eyes widened, but his reaction was a lot more mute. “Oh.” 

“But we’re coworkers and I’m your superior,” she insisted, “So it’s completely out of order for me to suggest such a thing.”

Ramsey nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I guess so.” He teetered for a moment, before a mischievous grin spread across his face. “But, uh, it wouldn’t be out of order for you to suggest it to a friend, right?” 

Percy’s eyebrows creased. “What?”

Ramsey shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m saying, yeah, it’s a little odd for an officer to ask a crook like me to stay in her house for the night.” He looked off as if feigning nonchalance, or perhaps he was being nonchalant? Percy struggled to tell.

She nodded regardless.

“But…” he continued, “it’s not that odd at all for a _friend_ to ask me to stay in her house for the night. Especially since it’s rainin’ and everythin’, right?” He glanced at her to see if she had caught on. “Are ya catchin’ what I’m putting down here, Percy?” 

“Mm.” She was no fool. She was well aware that Ramsey was combating her logic with his own, attempting to find a loophole in the truth that made an allowance for selfishness. And she knew she should not entertain it. And then it clicked what he had said. “We’re friends?” she asked suddenly. Ramsey reddened. 

“Well, uh, yeah! I woulda thought so! But if you don’t think so that’s cool too— I can respect that—!”

Oh, goodness. She’d panicked him. “No, no,” she quickly reassured him, “I’m glad. I just wasn’t certain.” She realised suddenly that the movie was still playing. The two cops had the sergeant held at gunpoint. He begged them to let it go, and they looked as though they were convinced. “I suppose that sort of changes things,” she said. The other cop suddenly revealed the rookie cop was hiding.

“Yeah?” Ramsey pulled her attention away from it.

She nodded firmly. “Yes. It wouldn’t be… What I mean is, I would be a terrible friend to let you go home in such weather.” Lies. Allowing emotions to cloud truth. It was unlike her. She was slipping tonight, slipping into something she wasn't comfortable with but didn't dislike either.

Ramsey sighed in an over the top way. “Guess I _have_ to stay, then.” She nodded. Sort of awkwardly, they both sat down again, trying to focus their attention on the movie. It was odd to pretend as if what happened didn’t happen, but more odd to bring it up right after, Percy supposed. She noted Ramsey was back at the appropriate distance, and decided she did not feel anything about it. Friends.

The movie was terrible, and she'd be reprimanding Meryl about it later.

* * *

Ramsey leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Percy tidy up from the night’s escapades. He had offered to help, but evidently he hadn’t been certain of where anything was and Percy thought it rude to burden a guest, anyway. She opened the press beneath the sink to return the dishwashing gloves to their home before standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips. The kitchen, upon a quick look over, was suitably clean again. She nodded before turning to him. “It’s getting very late. I have work tomorrow.”

He nodded, yawning. “Yeah. You got spare covers for the couch?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You wish to stay on the couch? It’d be terrible for your back.”

He looked back at her with equal confusion. “Where else would I stay? Molly’s bed?”

The eyebrow reached a little higher. “In my bed.”

“Buh– Uh, duh-” he stammered, “Wh-Where would _you_ sleep?” 

He was very considerate, but he had clearly never been in her bedroom before. “It’s a king-sized bed, Ramsey,” she said patiently, “I’m sure it’ll hold the two of us just fine.” There was a joke there, and Percy wished she were funnier so she could make it.

Hm. Was he blanching? Percy had shared a bed with a partner during cases multiple times before– if she could do it with Meryl despite all her nervous protesting and offers to sleep on the ground, she could see no reason why she couldn’t do the same with someone that didn’t drive her up the wall. She was being harsh again. Someone who wasn’t _very_ irritating on occasion. 

“Uhm, okay,” he finally squeaked out. He rubbed the back of his neck, and his sleazy grin came back. "Hey, if it's a King-sized bed, I guess it just fits you, huh? You, uh, get it? One King?"

There it was. The joke that eluded her. She grinned. "Yes. Just one King." He grinned back. Ah, good. So he _was_ alright with it. Percy smiled at him, for his own sake. Sometimes, he got very nervous. Like a little mouse, Percy thought, though she wouldn’t tell him that. He seemed to be self-conscious about his looks? She didn’t quite know _why_ – his goatee was nice, and textured. She found herself looking at it again, and pulled her eyes away before she got caught. Not that she’d be embarrassed if she was, because there was really no need to be. Well, that seemed like enough funny business. “Right. Off we go, then,” and she led him away from the kitchen, turning off the lights behind them. 

And only a short time later, they were in bed. Percy had informed him of the side she usually slept on, and he gratefully chose to sleep on the other side. And so, on this slightly unusual Friday in September, at approximately one in the morning, Percy lay quietly in bed, arms crossed gently across her stomach, staring at the white ceiling with the stubborn intent to fall asleep without closing her eyes. Beside her, Ramsey was turned on his side, facing away from her and towards the window. It was still raining, though a little less heavy now. She could hear him breathe beside her, deep but quiet and slightly unsteady. He wasn’t asleep. 

She supposed she couldn’t talk. She wasn’t asleep either. She closed her eyes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. “Percy?” She felt Ramsey shift beside her.

She did not open her eyes. “Yes?”

“You alright?” he whispered. An odd question, but she humoured it regardless.

“Yes.”

She could hear him playing at the duvet. “Not sleepin’, though.”

She opened her eyes to look at him, but he was still turned away. A frown crept onto her face. “No.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He sighed, finally turning to face her, and the covers shifted with him. “Can I ask you a question?” He sounded serious. Percy nodded, and then, remembering he might not be able to see her, said “Yes.”

“Earlier, you said…" He paused. "Sorry, I don’t want to make you feel awkward or nothin’.”

“No, no, go ahead. You won’t.”

“Well, I just… You said you wanted me here. And the reason was selfish, or somethin' like that. Is that really why you invited me, or was I kinda right about the other stuff?” After a few seconds of silence, he added, “You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to.” Percy could feel the well form in her stomach. She had said that, hadn't she?

“No, I do.” She frowned deeper. “Give me a moment. I’m not sure how to word this.”

“Take your time, Sparky.” Ramsey let out a dry chuckle, “We got all night.” 

And so they did, she mused. But Percival King was not good with words. She knew a lot of them, but not how to use them in the ways that mattered, it seemed. The pen was mightier than the sword, and words were mightier than Percy could handle. ~~Tell him you were lonely. Tell him you were lonely.~~ He’d talked to her about it before, being afraid of being alone. They were friends, apparently. So it stood to reason that she should be able to speak to him about it. ~~It’s okay to let down the walls sometimes. No one is strong forever.~~ If anyone could understand, it was him, wasn’t it?

But she couldn't “I don’t know,” she lied in a quiet panic, and then she sighed at her own childishness, “No, that’s not true. I do.” She smacked her lips together. Her mouth felt dry. "And I would like you to know, but it's not..." It wasn't something she could admit.

She could feel Ramsey staring at her. She swallowed something in her throat. This is where it always went wrong, anyway. Percival King could not open up. She could not be honest about how she felt. Earlier was a fluke, a foolish endeavor that had clearly tricked Ramsey into believing she was the sort of person that could be open. No matter how hard she tried, there was always something in the way. A mental block. A wall. She couldn’t be emotional with her parents, she couldn’t be emotional with Molly, and now she couldn’t be emotional with the only friend she’d ever had. 

“I’m sorry, Ramsey.” And he was supposed to turn away, then. That’s what people did. They gave up. He was supposed to give up. 

But his hand snaked its way into hers instead with a slight squeeze. “It’s alright,” he said, softly, “I told you already, Sparky. You don't gotta tell me. I really do hate when you make yourself uncomfortable to make other people happy. I don’t wanna be someone you do that for.” His hand was rough, and calloused, and ridiculously warm, and her eyebrows immediately went up at his touch in surprise. But it wasn't horrible. It was nice. “Are you okay with this?” he asked after a few moments.

She did not reply. She squeezed his hand back, gently, but calculated. “I’m very bad at this, Ramsey," she whispered, "And I cannot promise I'll ever be good at it, either."

“That’s okay," he whispered back, "Me too.”

“Okay.”

Ramsey shifted to get more comfortable, snuggling into the pillow beside her with a slight laugh. “Man, I’m beat.” 

“Me too,” she said. She was smiling, she realised. Widely. 

He yawned. “I was gonna give you a big speech about me being there for you and stuff, but I think I’m gonna save it for the mornin’, since we’re both in work and all.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” 

"I bet Molly's sleepover was way lamer than ours," Ramsey tried to say through a yawn. "I bet they didn't even watch a shitty cop movie."

Percy furrowed her brow. "They'd better not have," she said in the most scornful whisper she muster, "That movie had far too much violence than what is appropriate for children their age."

Ramsey laughed. "You'd have hated the movies I worked on, then." He closed his eyes. “Good night, Percy.”

“Good night, Ramsey.” The rain hit the window pane hard. Ramsey's hand was warm, and his breath was slow and steady, and he was patient and understanding and wanted her to be happy, and everything about him felt oddly familiar.

~~Friends.~~

Percival King was asleep before the dawn of a perfect Saturday in September. 


End file.
